


In Time of War The Laws are Silent

by ForeverEvan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Blood and Injury, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Dies, Lucius Malfoy Dies, Ron Weasley Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 21:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16292036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverEvan/pseuds/ForeverEvan
Summary: The Second Wizarding War is over, and Voldemort has won. One year after making the unbreakable vow to Lucius that she would marry Draco in exchange for Ron's life, Hermione and Draco are celebrating their engagement party. Things go wrong almost immediately when Lucius is found, beaten to death. But things are not always what they seem ...





	In Time of War The Laws are Silent

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneFanfictionForumHalloween2018](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneFanfictionForumHalloween2018) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> Hermione and Draco's engagement dinner turns into a crime scene when Lucius is murdered by someone in attendance. Must include a house elf as a character.
> 
>  
> 
> This is an un-betaed piece. Thank you for taking a moment to read, I hope you enjoy!

Draco stood in the doorway. Hermione could see him in the reflection of the mirrored vanity. She had been sitting there for the last hour, saying absolutely nothing. Tonight was supposed to be their engagement party. The Dark Lord, Rowle, Snape and countless other Death Eaters celebrating not only the fall of Potter, Dumbledore and Hogwarts but also the engagement of several witches and wizards given as prizes to families seen as faithful to the cause, even before the win of the Dark Lord was evident. Those who survived Hogwarts and had not escaped with the resistance had been placed under the unbreakable vow to wed their suitor or to suffer death.

Well, in most cases. Hermione had bargained her freedom to save Ron from execution. Fat lot it did. He had been killed a week later trying to break into Malfoy Manor when the news broke that Draco and Hermione were to be wed at the Dark Lord’s pleasure. [i]His pleasure,[/i] Hermione thought acidly. This man was taking great delight in deciding which of the next generation would mate and produce offspring.

At first, the only joy Hermione took was the constant wailing of Pansy Parkinson. She had fared far worse in the game of arranged marriages. She was originally told that she would be wed to Percy Weasley, but when Percy was found unsuitable, Voldemort changed his mind. Mrs. Pansy MacMillan, new wife to Ernie, threw raging fits at every function when she could not marry Draco.

Ginny and Luna had escaped. McGonagall was forced to marry Voldemort himself, but had committed suicide that very night. Draco had whispered that much to her, but little else. Hermione had not been outside the Manor since the handfasting ceremony, so her news was scant at best. She knew Harry had died. So had everyone else, as far as she knew.

Today, on the day of her engagement party to Draco, a major wrench had been thrown into the plan. Just as the final guest had arrived, the sounds of screaming echoed off the walls. Draco, wand brandished like a sword, was the first to find Lucius and the source of the screaming (a relatively young house elf recently renamed Saucepit, meant to be a wedding present for both Hermione and Draco when they moved out at the end of the summer). A section of his head was bashed in, mele style. Blood was pooling along the white marble floors of the entryway, his body contorted in such a fashion that no one questioned the painful death that had taken place.

“I didn’t do it, if that’s what you want to know,” she whispered. 

Draco sighed, and then moved so he was standing behind her, resting his hands on Hermione’s shoulders. The last year had been tough on both of them, adjusting to this new situation. It would have been easy to hate him, but Hermione found Draco to actually care about what she felt. The process had brought them closer together, accepting their fate as future husband and wife in this crazy, backwards reality that felt like a nightmare to them both, no matter what side of the law they began on. 

He leaned down, and kissed the top of her head. “I believe you. But they want you to stay put until an investigation goes down. This … wasn’t done with magic. It’s going to take longer to sort out.”

Hermione sighed. She was keeping eye contact with Draco indirectly through the mirror. They both looked tired, despite being dressed in fancy clothes and well fed, both of them looked the kind of worn out that surviving a war could accomplish. “We had fifty people here. Most of them creeps from your side, probably schmoozing up to Lucius for favor. The rest may have hated him as much as I do … did …” Hermione trailed off. Her right hand reached up, covering his on her shoulder. A simple sign of trust, and permission to leave it there. “How is your mum?”

“She’s been sedated. She and I were together all evening with Severus, so there is little she need be awake for that I cannot speak to.”

“So she did not take it well?”

“No. Not at all.”

He let those words hang in the air between them, the harsh differences of their affiliations and where the line of sympathy was drawn being the one wedge that could not be shaken.

“And you are to babysit me?” she asked, trying (and failing) to keep her temper at bay. 

Draco shrugged his shoulders. “Moreso to make sure nobody comes up to deliver some justice before we know what exactly went down. Saucepit will be along shortly with drinks.”

“Once we are married, I am changing her name back to Waggins,” Hermione muttered. “And you won’t do a damn thing to stop me.”

“Oh, I won’t will I?” Draco challenged, lofting a brow and trying not to crack a smile despite the circumstances the two had found themselves in. He squeezed her shoulders playfully before moving to sit on the bed. He sigh grunted as he sat, and Hermione clicked her tongue.

“You’re getting old,” she mused, turning to rest her chin on the back of the chair on her folded arms, still watching Draco. “So I take it, based on the two seconds I saw, Lucius was killed without magic - like, he was hit with something?”

Draco nodded. “It appears so. We are auditing for every candlestick and fire poker is being counted now. It may be what’s keeping that damn house elf.” Draco leaned back, and turned to face the open door. “SAUCEPIT!”

“I wouldn’t come if my fool of a master gave me such a stupid name and called it about like anything,” Hermione admonished, narrowing her eyes at Draco. “Are we sure it wasn’t a gun or something?”

“A muggle weapon? Not likely. Those make noise, right? And they damage walls?”

“I suppose, if the bullet ricochets off something,” Hermione relented. “And are you absolutely sure that he died where he was discovered? There are hundreds of rooms in this place.”

“I am pretty sure,” Draco said, turning back to face Hermione. “There was a good amount of blood, and it doesn’t look smeared like his body was dragged through it. Doesn’t really look like there were other marks on him either, but I know an illusion charm may be hiding more evidence. I know they are working on it.”

Hermione could not help herself - she gulped. This whole situation seemed pretty dire. She - being the future bride of the heir to the Malfoy fortune. Not only that, but her stance as a (mostly) unwilling bride was the worst kept secret the dark side had no problem laughing about. Hermione was very concerned that this was all about to be pinned on her - and that she may not even live to see herself married to Draco.

It was just then that her thoughts were interrupted by a little crack, pop noise. Saucepit was suddenly standing in between Hermione and Draco, holding a tray with two goblets of what appeared to be water on it. Hermione reached out and took one, just grateful it was not alcohol. She wouldn’t have even cared if she were drinking straight veritaserum at this point, since she had nothing to hide. 

“Master, Snape has instructed me to tell you Sir that the trick worked!” Saucepit piped up, beaming with pride. Hermione sat, holding a mostly empty water goblet and staring at a mythical creature dressed in nothing more than a belted pillowcase with holes for her arm and head, simply bewildered at what she was trying to say.

“Pardon me?” Hermione cut in, turning her confused expression from the house elf to Draco. “The trick?” she asked.

But Draco was already on his feet, running to her closet. With a flick of his wand, her door closed and locked silently. Draco pulled out Hermione’s bottomless bag - he had snuck it back to her as long as she promised to stop trying to hide herself in it to escape - and sat it on her bed. He was also throwing clothes at Hermione.

“Quickly, Hermione. You need to change clothes,” Draco instructed.

“Very quickly, misses,” the house elf confirmed. She watched, with complete horror, as the house elf pulled a blood stained pipe from under her pillowcase and began wiping it with the edges. Presumably to remove fingerprints.

Hermione was in no state to argue. She stood, immediately moving to undo the fastenings of her dress. She tore three buttons pulling it off. She and Draco had not yet been intimate - per her marriage contract, Hermione’s virginity was to stay intact until the wedding night. But for some reason, this did not feel like a violation of her privacy. She kicked off her shoes, and pulled the jean pants over her underwear. The tank top and light zippered hoodie all came next. Hermione sat down to begin pulling on her shoes, and Draco busied himself shoving odds and ends into her bag.

“Draco,” Hermione asked, a hint of concern in her tone. “Tonight’s been a bit of a blur, but …”

“No time. Saucepit, fill her in. That’s an order, you can break silence to Miss Granger and Miss Granger only.”

Draco went back to packing. Hermione could only focus on the task at hand - getting herself dressed for whatever was happening right at that moment.

“Miss Granger, ma’am,” Saucepit began, “Mister Snape had a theory, and my master wanted to test it. You made a vow to marry the master Draco,” Saucepit winked. “But you did not make the vow to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named …”

“Don’t call him that, it’s … It’s Voldemort,” Hermione forced out. “He is correct. I made the vow to Lucius when he agreed to the terms of the arranged marriage. I would marry Draco to spare Ron, or we would both die.”

“And when the other person dies, the person who vows the vow with magic,” Saucepit began, her voice changing decibels to be a bit higher, “Mister Snape believes that the vow is done. And that the peoples are released!”

Hermione continued to dress, removing her hair from the fancy bun and letting her fingers work her hair into a thick braid. It was a mindless action, but it was fantastic at keeping her thoughts at bay. “How .. How do we know this plan of Snape’s will work? If I leave the Manor and he’s wrong, I will die.”

“Because Hannah Abbot has been delivered to the Resistance,” Draco cut in, finally done packing clothes and other wrapped supplies into her bag. He had also gone to the restroom and wet a rag with warm water, ringing it out and handing it over to Hermione as she finished the braid, then casually pointed to the side of his eye. She got the hint - makeup needed to go. “And since she is alive and well for this last week, I felt it was time you should join her.”

Hermione was expecting a lot of things. Maybe Draco setting her up for killing Lucius to get out of this wedding, or even his belief that she did it and he was helping her run to keep her alive. But never in a million years did she expect to hear him say that he arranged the death of his own father to help a mudblood.

“Who killed Lucius?!” Hermione demanded, yanking the cloth from Draco and wiping at her skin with a bit too much force. 

“It was me, miss,” Saucepit said, beaming with pride. “I was ordered, and obeyed by creating his death and making it a mystery while Master Draco and his friends made it safe for miss to go away from here.”

She threw the rag on the floor. Warm tears were spilling out of her eyes. “So this is the plan, then?” Hermione asked, the betrayal thick in her voice. “You were going to let Lucius die in a non-magic way so the mudblood will be blamed when she escapes? Letting you off scott free?”

“Yes,” Draco responded, stunned himself at Hermione’s reaction and letting it show. “My first priority was ensuring we were capable of getting you out, without being detected. Rescuing Hannah was the dress rehearsal, so to speak - besides, she was being treated far worse than you, Hermione. She was half dead when Snape got her to Arthur and George, and if we were going to get caught, I would rather it be not with you. She is nothing to me.”

The weight of his truth left a heavy feeling in the room. Saucepit patted Hermione on the arm. “There, there little miss. You is about to be safe, and with friends, miss. I will miss you, but you is needing to go.”

There was another popping sound, and Snape appeared. Hermione jumped back. “Professor!”

“Snape, I have concerns,” Draco whispered. “I think Granger’s in shock.”

“We don’t have time for coddling, Miss Granger. If we are to leave, it needs to be now. I am not going to risk my life for someone with a god complex left over from her school days. Now … Are you capable of following instructions and helping me get you out of here, or aren’t you?”

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head back and forth as if to clear her thoughts like an etch-a-sketch. “Of course, Professor. I can’t say how grateful I am that you all would put your lives at risk for this. For me.”

Draco was beside her, pressing her bag into her hand before pulling her into a tight hug. Hermione leaned into it. This part of the situation … it was the easy part. She really had grown accustomed to Draco, and the idea that they were going to spend their lives together. Have children together, and hopefully grow old together. But now that he was sending her away, it all felt too much like a loss. Her eyes had a steady stream of tears flowing now, and she tried not to let a sob escape as she pressed her face harder into his chest.

Somehow sensing what Hermione was feeling, Draco reached down and tilted Hermione’s face up softly, knuckles resting under the jawline as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. Even though she was crying, his kiss was hungry. Passionate, needy and rushed all at the same time. The goodbye kiss. He pulled away as quickly as it began. “Listen, you need to stay alive. I know this may not have started out as what you wanted, but I can’t imagine a world without you in it. So please … take care of yourself until I can be there to take care of you again.”

“Promise,” Hermione agreed. 

Snape cleared his throat. “Time to go, Granger. Cut this short.” 

She stood on her tip toes and kissed Draco one more time, and with a final look of longing, disentangled herself from him and ran to Snape’s outstretched arm. She grabbed it, and held tight as he apparated onto the streets of London. Snape was kind enough to help her steady. Side along apparition was always hard on the passenger.

“Stay close, Granger. We have one stop before we get you to the Resistance.” 

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked, following without further questioning.

Snape held up the lead pipe. “We are going to frame that bitch Umbridge. I figured you wouldn’t mind …”

And with nothing more than a snort, Hermione followed.


End file.
